Initiation
by caathy
Summary: A cult recruits troubled teenagers. This cult sacrifices lives of new recruits believing this act will do away with evil spirits and purify their souls. This purification system has been claiming innocent lives and the Jumpstreet unit is on the case.
1. Chapter 1

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first 21 JS fan fic, so go easy on me. ;) Feel free to review my story, I would love to know what you think! Just one note before you get started: there is a POV change in scene four. I was originally writing this for NaNoWriMo and with the time limit, I didn't think to go back and rewrite the first three chapters. I was going to after NaNo was through, but I decided to leave it as is. Anyway, carry on!)_

**SCENE ONE**

_Sweet Tooth_

It was too early in the morning to concentrate on work, even with the sun shining its heavy rays throughout the room. The office was quiet except for the usual sounds of shuffling papers, muffled phone conversations and the pluck and ringing of typewriters. Styrofoam cups were an accessory to every other desk, filled with beans of caffeine in hopes of giving their consumers a waking rush. It was just another day at Jump Street, and like usual, Penhall was taking a five minute break to grab a bite to eat.

He was hovered over a desk opening and closing doors in a speedy fashion. He was not searching for paperwork (files were left untouched) and he was not in need of a pen (he had one clipped to his shirt pocket). In fact, anyone could find this suspicious searching as snooping, but if anyone knew Penhall better, he was up to something completely harmless.

"Penhall, what are you doing?" rang a sharp but deep voice.

Penhall jerked, startled by the sudden sound, and with a quick glance to his left he saw it was Chief Fuller. Approaching him from behind were Ioki and Judy, and even though a quick meeting was probably in order, Penhall merely smiled and went back to his searching.

"Just looking for something to eat, sir." Was his response, his head buried inside the desk.

"In Hanson's desk?" Fuller continued. His eyebrows were raised, a smile slightly tugging at his lips. He was amused, knowing how much of a stir this would cause with…

"Hey, hey, hey! Doug, whatdoya think you're doin', huh?"

…How much of a stir this would cause with Tom Hanson, Doug Penhall's partner. Hanson looked agitated, like usual, and judging by his tardiness, it was probably influenced by heavy traffic. While he was in the middle of bumper-to-bumper traffic his partner was searching for something good, and hoping to save whatever Penhall was looking for, Hanson rushed over to his desk. However his attempts were unsuccessful; with a joyful grunt, Penhall emerged from the desk with a Snickers candy bar in each hand.

"Nothin' Hanson, chill." Penhall said as he threw Hanson one of the bars. "Just getting into your stash is all. I was hungry."

"You ever think of getting something of your own?" Hanson remarked, unwrapping the bar. "This isn't Halloween – you can't just go around to everyone's desks snoopin' around!"

"I wasn't goin' through everyone's desks!" Penhall defended through a mouthful of candy. "Just yours."

Hanson hardly had time to scoff a reply when Ioki and Judy had arrived on the scene. He eyed Penhall one last suspicious glare and then took a seat beside him on the desk. Fuller was shuffling through a stack of papers in the midst of the playful argument, and when he finally realized the two were quietly snacking on Hanson's hard-earned money (used to buy candy no less), he looked around.

"Alright, guys, we have a serious case this time." He said as he shook the papers. "I mean _real_ serious. In the last two weeks there have been almost ten missing persons and they're all linked to this guy." Fuller threw the papers on the desk where a mug shot was clipped to the top of the stack. The criminal photographed was a young male, looking to be in his early thirties with short dark hair and a husky frame. The crew huddled around the picture, Ioki being the first take a glance.

"Yeah I heard about this guy," Ioki said while shaking his finger at the photograph. "He's a priest downtown, isn't he?"

"A priest?" Judy questioned, eyeing Ioki and then looking over to Fuller. "Why would a priest want to kidnap people?"

"That's just it," Fuller sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "We don't know. People have tried to press charges but he gets off the hook every time. No one has any evidence to charge him; no one knows what he does. We don't even know where he's taking these people, but we know it's him."

"Sounds like he's got a good grip on crime." Hanson mentioned. He nudged Penhall's arm and handed him the (now empty) candy wrapper. "Throw that away, would ya?" Penhall gave Hanson a long but playful glare and then tossed it into the wastebasket along with his.

"Sounds like one of those nutso folks you see on TV every Sunday morning." Penhall mentioned.

"We don't know what he's capable of," Fuller said as he picked up the file. He tossed it to Hanson. "But he's been picking up homeless people by the shelter downtown. Hanson, I want you and Penhall to take this. Be real careful, would you? Call us when you find out something, and don't hesitate in asking for back up. By the looks of it, this guy could bite off more than he can chew, and we can't take any chances."

Hanson and Penhall looked at each other and then nodded briefly to Fuller, who then went back to his desk. Sliding off of the desk, Hanson grabbed Penhall's arm and started for the door.

"C'mon, Doug." Hanson said. "You're gonna buy me breakfast."

Penhall grumbled under his breath and allowed himself to be dragged throughout the office. Once they reached the stairwell, Penhall started to pat his pockets, on the side and in the back. He stopped suddenly, causing Hanson to jerk to an abrupt hault.

"What's wrong?"

"Uh," Penhall started. "I uh left my wallet in my desk." Then that classic, sheepish smile stretched across his face. "Could you spot me a few bucks?"

"Alright." Hanson sighed, quickly checking to make sure _he_ had his own wallet. "Alright, but you owe me."

Penhall wrapped an arm around Hanson's shoulders, that sheepish smile now widely spread and joyfully expressed.

"Thanks, buddy." Penhall chirped. "Friends always right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just as long as you buy me some candy."

"You tryin' to flirt?" Penhall asked, his eyes somewhat widened.

"Yeah because you're so irresistible – NO you pinhead." Hanson laughed. "To replace what you _stole_ from me."

"When you say it like that, you make me out to be some kind of moocher."

"Did you pay for the candy?" Hanson asked.

"No."

"Was it yours?" 

"Well I ate it, so…"

"Just get in the car."


	2. Chapter 2

**SCENE TWO**

_Lucky Sons of Bitches_

The city streets were slowly beginning to populate with cars, trucks and buses. Only a few people were cruising the sidewalks, which proved to be an incredible unbalanced ratio compared to the small crowd of homeless wanderers seated by the curb. Some were women, some men, some sleeping inside boxes while others begged for money and watched by passers pass by. Among this crowd of citizens were officers Hanson and Penhall, who were undercover as part of this abandoned family. They were dressed down, wearing clothing that was ripped, torn, and downright filthy. Even though the morning sun was still as bright as bright could be, it did not provide a well-matched warmth versus the brutal cold of winter.

December had taken its toll on many of the homeless surrounding the officers. Some only had a cough while others had bronchitis or worse. The atmosphere was incredibly contagious with background music featuring sneezing, gagging, coughing and sniffling. The environment was affecting only one of the officers, namely Penhall, who was huddled away from the crowd. He had a look of worry on his face, most likely worried about catching whatever was infecting the systems of his new neighbors. In complete contrast was Hanson, who was snoozing on his back while positioned on the sidewalk.

Looking over to his partner, Penhall frowned, and swiftly shook Hanson's shoulder. Moving slowly, Hanson opened his eyes and looked over at Penhall.

"Did you see something?" asked Hanson in a hushed voice as he sat up.

"No." Penhall replied, his tone louder and less sensitive to the quietness of the morning. "I hope I don't catch something. Last thing I need is to hack up a lung when we're running after some priest with hot feet."

Hanson rubbed his eyes and leaned rearward so his back was resting against the wall. He raised his hand to cover his mouth as a long yawn broke the peace among the curb huggers.

"You won't catch anything if this guy shows up." Hanson mentioned. "If he actually does show up and take people in like we've heard." His voice was louder that time, and with the mention of the priest, a few heads turned. Seeing the sudden interest among the other people, Hanson slid closer to one of them, an elderly man snuggled beneath an aged blanket. "So it's true?"

For a moment the man merely looked over Hanson, scanning the officer from head to toe. Then he briefly glanced at Penhall who watched the two intently. Finally he spoke, but in a very gruff and cracked voice.

"We ain't seen you here before." Said the man, alternating stares to each officer. "You two seem terribly well off to be hangin' 'round us."

"We used to live behind the dumpsters a few streets down." Hanson said, playing the man with a sad expression. "But the cops came in and shooed us away."

"They said we were upsetting the store owners across the street." Penhall chimed in. "That we were scaring away their customers."

The man nodded knowingly and pulled the blanket tighter around his body. He turned away briefly and proceeded to cough once, twice, and then went into a spell of hacking. Penhall made a face at Hanson and shivered while Hanson rolled his eyes. Once this episode was through, the man turned his attention to them once again.

"You awfully young to be on the streets." He continued.

"We lost everything three years ago." Hanson said as he briefly looked back to Penhall. "Now we're out here."

"It's terrible these days how people treat ya." The man said. "You sit on the side of the street with nothin' to eat, no booze to keep you warm, and they just pass ya and go on their way. With their nice haircuts, their expensive clothes and their noses in the air."

"No decency left in this world," humored Hanson.

"You seen that man you was talkin' about? That one preacher fella?" asked the man. "He can be kind but he sure is creepy."

"We haven't seen him, but we've heard about him. Does he come up here a lot?"

"Everyday 'round one o' clock. He'll say hello, bring us a loaf of bread and then he'll take a few of us with him."

"Take a few?" Hanson questioned, a confused expression on his face.

"He usually leaves the old folks out here. He'll take the younger folk. Like you all." The man's face became darker and bitter just then. "You'll be taken today most likely. Ya'll are fit and not as dirty as the rest of us. Lucky sons of bitches."

Hanson stared at Penhall, who only looked on in silence. Shrinking back, he sat beside his partner and watched the by passers pass by.


	3. Chapter 3

**SCENE THREE**

_Home Again_

The morning settled into the afternoon. The only people populating the streets now were business men out to grab a late lunch and the same homeless folk crowding the curb. Included in the lunch and curb crew were Hanson and Penhall who were _still_ in the same spots. Penhall was sitting against the wall watching people pass by while Hanson, like before, was spread out on the ground catching _another_ forty winks. And, like before, Penhall shook his shoulder.

"No sleepin' on the job." Penhall muttered through a shiver. "I don't see how you can sleep out here anyway. My eyes are basically icicles and you're just… sleeping."

Wrinkling his nose, Hanson pushed himself up and gave a little yawn. For a moment he merely stared at Penhall, his eyelids barely open and his face wearing a fatigued expression, and then he slid back against the wall.

"I wasn't sleeping on the job." Hanson argued. "Just acting the role, you know? Besides, there isn't much to do. We were told to sit here until-"

"Hey, check it out!"

"What?"

Penhall pointed to the black vehicle pulling over to the curb in a slow and suspicious manner. It stopped near the two officers and the door started to open.

"Lucky sons of bitches." Mumbled the elderly man, glaring from the car and then to Hanson. "Put in a good word for your new friends."

Everyone watched as a figure emerged from the vehicle. It was the same man as in the mug shot the officers had seen earlier. He was dressed in a light-colored robe, dark slacks and dark dress shoes. The heels of his soles clacked against the sidewalk as he made his way over to the youngest of the crew. For a moment he only observed, looking over Penhall first, and then Hanson. Still facing the officers, he waved back to the vehicle and two more robed men came forth.

They were slightly shorter and slimly built, but wore faces that held an incredibly strong expression. They were almost intimidating just by the way their eyes scanned over the line up along the curb.

The first man to come from the car, presumably the leader, pushed up his robe and knelt before the two.

"It's almost eighteen degrees out here." Said the man, wearing a face of concern. "You boys must be cold." The man waited for a reply from either of the officers, but they only stared in wonder. The concerned expression faded and was replaced with what seemed to be a warm smile. For a man who has committed felony after felony, he sure seemed welcoming to charity, whatever charity he was proceeding with. He turned back to his associates and gestured to the car. "Get the bread from the trunk and hand out the loaves. Get these boys a few blankets."

Hanson watched the faces of the two associates. One seemed calm and collective while the other seemed on the edge. It was almost like he was nervous something would not fall into line. The worried face he wore could be seen miles away, and that made Hanson curious.

"You're being awfully kind, sir." Hanson stated, slowly turning his head away from the nervous one to the man sitting before him. "What you want? To give us a nickel and buy your way into Heaven?"

"You cannot pay your admission into Heaven. You can only hope to help others and bring them with you." The man replied. He extended his arm for a handshake. "My name is Mark Petrelli, I'm the leader of Tithing Ministries, and these men are my aids."

"Well isn't that somethin'," Hanson remarked. "He brought his family along just to say hello. Look, man, you gonna give us bread or are you going to sit here and _chat_?"

"What do you want?" Penhall asked.

The man moved closer, almost huddling against them as if to exclude the other homeless people, who were watching.

"We're in the process of building our community." The man explained. "We want to clean the streets and give shelter to the people who need it most."

"Yeah?" Hanson inquired. He pointed to the elderly man. "Well why hasn't he gone yet? He's been sitting here for days and you just pass him by. Same for the rest of these people."

"The youth is our future." The man said in a low and somewhat agitated tone. "We have beds waiting for you. Hot food, a warm shower, even clothes. Are you coming or are you staying?"

"We're going." Penhall quickly stated, not giving Hanson a chance to chime in with another smart remark.

"Okay then." The man stood on his feet and took a few steps back. "Gentlemen," he said to his aids. "Show these men to the car. We need to get them home."


	4. Chapter 4

**SCENE FOUR**

_Welcome Home_

Hanson was not sure what to think of this group and their services. It all seemed too suspicious. The usual Good Samaritan thing would pass along a twenty, some food and be on their way. This was not the best way to act in a generous manner, but it was what people usually did. To take in a select few was an incredibly charitable act, but to only select the youngest and strongest made this charitable act even more unusual, almost cold.

After they got into Mark's vehicle they were driven to their new "home". A small house that looked well-kept with bushes of roses in the front and a garden out back. Several people could be seen tending to the rose bushes. They wore the same robes as Mark and his aids. They seemed like a community, acting tightly knit with everything. How quiet and still they were in the car, how synchronized they were while gardening, and no matter what they did they were close to one another. Barely having an inch of elbow room, Hanson did not know how they could do much of anything without feeling uncomfortable. Perhaps of all things that seemed unusual about this community that seemed the _most_ unusual.

Once the car was parked, Hanson took a quick glance at Penhall who was still taking in their temporary home. They had to phone Fuller about this and soon. Something seemed off. In a world that seemed so perfect and flawless, there had to be something wrong.

"C'mon boys," Mark said as he stepped out of the car. "Let's get you into your rooms."

▫▪▫▪▫▪▫

_POV – Tom_

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know it's confusing to change the point-of-view in the middle of a story, but I feel that my writing flows more naturally when I write in first person. Sorry for any inconvenience!)_

We didn't know what to expect when we were going into this. At first we thought we were going to get a few criminals and head back to some high school like usual. Doug and I never expected to go into a home full of crazies and have them initiate us into their family like some sick fraternity. Ever since they picked us up they had been watching us closely. We knew we needed to call Fuller but every chance we had to get to a phone, one of 'em would come and escort us to see something else. Another thing to become familiar with, another person to meet, it was always something new. As slick and sly as we were, there was always someone from the group standing in the loophole we were trying to slip through. It was obvious these people had been together for a while and had most likely dealt with undercover cops before.

As strange as they seemed, they were too polite to be criminals. There has always been a difference between a cold-blooded killer and someone who kills, but not for reasons of vengeance. A cold-blooded killer has a distinct motive for his actions. He shows no mercy for his crime, he shows no pity for his victims. A person who is not cold-blooded but still a murderer shows sympathy to everything resulting in his crime and only when realizing what he has done would be considered a crime. If this community was kidnapping people and taking their lives, I seriously doubted they considered their actions sinful. If anything they considered their actions to be honorable.

As Mark had mentioned, he showed us to our room when we first arrived. We bypassed the colorful floral arrangements and entered a room of white walls and grey trim. The house was decorated in warm-colored rugs, various paintings and plenty of color. Although the house held a rainbow within its walls, it gave off an eerie vibe.

The people were nice, greeting us as we passed them through the hallway, but what seemed _eerie_ were the smiles that were painted on their lips. They did not hold genuine warmth; they seemed forced, like they were _learned_. The only person within the house that seemed to act their polite portrayal truthfully was Mark. From the very start he came off as an individual who wanted to help people, but only on his own terms. From driving us to the house to taking us to our rooms he spoke about what the house rules were. The list was long and tedious but basic enough to remember.

"Okay, so here are your clothes." Mark said as he escorted us into the bedroom. The room had two beds separated by a nightstand which only held a lamp and a booklet. There was a door by the far right wall, most likely leading to a bathroom. Mark placed the clothes on the foot of bed nearest to the door. "You have three outfits a piece, more if you are able to stick around for the next week. Lights go out at 10 P.M. Breakfast is at 8 A.M. We know you guys have been through a lot, so there will not be any hard feelings if you sleep in. We would even encourage it. You have plenty to learn tomorrow, but we'll let you take it easy today. Get settled in, take a shower, get dressed and come down to the den when you're ready." With that, Mark turned and left the room. I waited until his footsteps were barely audible before I shut the door.

For a moment or two, Doug and I only stared at each other. I didn't know what to say, heck I didn't even know what to do at that point. The only thing I was able to do at that point was to sit on the edge of the bed. Doug, however, had more energy to act, and picked up one of the outfits. He shook the white cloth and after it unfolded, he held it up to his chest.

"This is gettin' kinda scary if you ask me." Doug said with a shiver. "We need to call Fuller."

I fell back onto the bed and reached over the nightstand to retrieve the booklet. It was handmade, bound by red yarn with the cover reading 'Welcome Home'. I flipped through the first couple of pages. Most of the text I skimmed contained the rules Mark had briefed us on during the ride over. The rest seemed like a pep talk about having a new life. But it seemed like there was more than that.

"There's only one phone in the den." I told Doug, tossing him the booklet. "And I have no idea if we're going to be able to get to it without it seeming obvious. They don't seem like the kind of people to reward privacy."

"Yeah, but you know what Fuller said. We have to call by midnight or he's going to come searchin' for us." Doug skimmed through the pages just as I had, and looked at me with a bewildered expression. "This is just…"

"I know." I took one of the outfits and started for the bathroom door. "We'll have to use one of the payphones outside after dark. I'm sure they trace the calls that leave this house. …I'm gonna take a shower."

While reading the booklet, Doug mumbled an 'okay' and flopped down onto the other bed. I had a feeling that booklet was going to be the beginning of a very wild and confusing journey.


	5. Chapter 5

**SCENE FIVE**

_Tom Hanson_

Taking a shower gave me time to think things through. During the time Doug and I waited on the curb our minds were distorted. Although I was never absolutely certain about Doug, _I_ knew I did not hear Fuller thoroughly about the game plan. I listened to everything he had to say, and I knew what we were going to do in general but I never thought it would end up like this. When he explained to us people were going missing thanks to some preacher, I immediately assumed this guy was killing them off in order to bring a sacrifice to the table. I thought Mark was committing crimes for the "greater good" and when they took us to their home everything changed.

They seemed so well-behaved with good mannerisms. They seemed so kind and warm, but at the same time something seemed off. That shower really allowed me the privacy to go through everything that had happened that day. As positive as this group seemed, something was off.

When I came out of the shower, towel wrapped around my waist, I found Doug stretched out on the bed he had claimed, the bed by the door. He was reading through the booklet and looked to be about halfway through it. I walked over to my bed and grabbed one of the white robes. Doug's eyes rose from the page and even though his lips were hid behind the booklet I could still feel his smile.

"Hey there, stud," he laughed and let go of the booklet, allowing it to fall onto his chest. Normally I would have replied back with some smart remark, but instead I blew a kiss in return, joking obviously. "Hey, man, if I flew that way, you'd be the first guy I'd call."

"Yeah, yeah." I chuckled and slipped the robe over my body. It hung very loose with plenty of room. It looked like I was wearing a set of pajamas. I threw the towel into the bathroom and sat next to Doug on his bed. "So I've been thinking this could get a little deeper than we expected." Doug sighed with a nod of his head.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out when Mark was going on and on about unity when it came to cleaning the bathrooms." Doug stated.

"We have to clean the bathrooms?"

"That's what he said."

"Gross."

"We have to call Fuller though." Doug slipped off of the bed and started for the bathroom. "Tell him we have to get out soon."

"Why so soon? Did something happen when I was in the shower?"

"Nah," Doug shook his head. "I just don't want to clean the bathroom."

"Go take your shower."


	6. Chapter 6

**SCENE SIX**

_Tom Hanson_

It was almost eleven o' clock that night. The faint excitement throughout the house came to halt at ten o' clock sharp, just like Mark had specified earlier. Everything ran like clockwork, not even a minute early or a minute late. I would hate to see what would have happened if things were a few seconds shy of being precisely on time. Hell, I was worried what was going to happen if we got caught making a call to Fuller. They had phones in the rooms but I knew they probably traced every call. After all you cannot trust someone you take in after they have lived on the street for years. It was smart on their part, but a damper on our part.

The day went by quickly since they planned everything hour by hour. First they took care of the house: dusting, vacuuming, and tending to sprucing up whatever needed to be spruced. Then we broke for lunch, which consisted of chicken broth and toast with a side of salad. The broth tasted like dish water, the toast was burnt, and the salad had brown lettuce and rotten tomatoes, so we went hungry for the rest of the day (dinner consisted of pretty much the same meal). Towards the later part o the afternoon we did a lot of work for charity – collecting toys for the needy children and baking pies for some bake sale the retirement center down the street was hosting the next day. Doug and I were exhausted by the day's end, and even though we needed our sleep, we had to call Fuller and let him know we were okay.

The nearest phone was the payphone located on the corner. Every single room in the house had a window, and with sneaking out being our only option, Doug and I knew this night would risk plenty – not only blowing our cover, but possibly losing our lives. We decided it was best that only one of us make the call and the other person play innocent and watch from the bedroom inside. We drew straws and since I drew the shortest I was the one to make the phone call. As soon as I made sure the house was quiet, I slipped through the front door and made my way to the corner.

The street lamps were lit, however so dimly lit that I could barely make out much anything. The neighborhood did not seem threatening, but considering the case we were on I was prepared for anything. I was not worried about losing any money, since I only had two bucks in quarters. I figured there was not much threat to be had with the exception of Mark.

Since they had stripped us of our clothes, the only clothes I had to keep me warm in the freezing weather were the robe on my back and a loose pair of sneakers. I could feel the cold wind slipping down my ankles and under the heels of my feet with every step I made. My cheeks were frozen, my body was shaking, and my fingertips felt like ice. It was hard to believe people faced this weather every day and every night. I had only experienced it for a few minutes and already I was quivering.

As I entered the phone booth, the abrupt wind stopped its harsh blow, but it was hardly any warmer inside. My hands still shaking, I slipped a few quarters into the slot of the phone and held the receiver to my ear. I let out a cold and trembling breath as I dialed the number to the Jump Street office. Fuller picked up halfway through the first ring.

"Fuller here." He sounded tired and I knew he was probably waiting for our call all night. The cold surged through the phone booth, up my robe and blanketed my body. I was sure he could hear my teeth chattering.

"It's me." I finally answered.

"Hanson? It's about time you called; we were really starting to worry about you. Is Penhall okay? Are you okay?"

"We're fine." I assured. "I would've called sooner, but they kept us tied up."

"Tied up?"

"Not _tied up_ literally, but just… busy. They took us in, made us wear robes and haven't done anything too peculiar yet." Except their horrible cooking, which could have been considered a crime…

"Have you gotten any information out of 'em?" Fuller asked.

Just as I was about to answer there was a swift knock on the door. Mark. When his fists slammed against the window, my body jerked out of surprise. Mark seemed surprised also. He seemed like a charming guy earlier, always smiling and always tending to our every need. However now that we were outside of the house, the house to which I was a guest, things were not being played out all that nicely anymore.

His eyes were full of anger, betrayal, and perhaps there was a little worry dwelling in them although it was very faint. I mumbled a goodbye to Fuller and quickly placed the phone on the receiver at the exact moment Mark forced the door open. He reached and took hold of my sleeve.

"We have a phone inside," Mark muttered, his fingers slipping around my upper arm. His hold was tight and becoming tighter with every second that passed. "Why'd you come all the way out here, Tom?"

"It was past eleven." I insisted with what seemed to be an honest face. "Lights go out at ten, right? I did not want to break any of the house rules." Mark made a face in reply and I knew he could read through my pseudo innocence.

"Another house rule is not to go off the premises, even when you need to make a phone call. Any phone call can wait until morning, and this was no exception."

"Yeah? And how would you know? Could have been a family emergency."

"I doubt that," Mark sneered. He pulled me out of the phone booth, roughly jerking me up the street and towards the house. "No sin goes unpunished, Tom."


	7. Chapter 7

**SCENE SEVEN**

_Tom Hanson_

The room was nothing but a blur as my eyes opened. For a moment or two I waited for everything to sharpen, just like any other morning. However the more I waited, the less my vision sharpened. My head ached and I could barely move. It was almost like my body was waking up at an even slower rate than my body.

"Hanson?" someone called.

I couldn't remember anything from the night before. The last thing to actually cross my mind was calling Fuller in the phone booth. Everything past that was forgotten. Something had happened last night, something bad, and Mark obviously did not want me talking about it.

"Hanson." called the voice again.

I rolled my head to the other side, searching for the voice, and a blurry outline of a large figure was sitting beside me on the bed. It was Doug. His face came to me and then his shoulders, his hair, and soon my vision was back to how it was before. As for the aches, those remained.

"Hanson, you okay? Say somethin', man."

"What happened?" I finally asked.

There was slight hesitation from Doug when I asked that question. He bit his lower lip and looked away. Why did he not want to answer? Was I really that bad off?

"You uh… you don't remember?" he questioned.

"No. Nothin' after calling Fuller."

"Mark caught you. Took you down the street and you came back an hour later lookin' like hell."

Looking like hell? What was he talking about? I raised my head just enough to get a decent look at myself. There were cuts and scrapes, but nothing broken or sprained. I knew my lip was busted, I could feel the cracks along my lip opening and closing every time I spoke.

"We have to call Fuller about this." Doug continued. "We need some back up."

"Doug, are you crazy?" I asked. "I just tried calling Fuller and then this happens. I don't even know what i this /i is."

"I know, man. But these people are psycho. Let me call Fuller. We still got an hour before breakfast. I'll go give him a call at the payphone."

"Doug, they'll do to you what they did to me. Maybe even worse."

"Don't worry 'bout it." Doug said as he pat my shoulder. "I'll be fine. You just keep an eye out, and if anyone asks, I went to uh… get your wallet that you left at the phone booth."

That would never pass with Mark, but I waved Doug off anyway. He had his mind set and there was nothing I could do. With the late night, I doubted anyone would be getting up this early. So I got up and went to the door to keep guard. Hopefully this would not be a replay of last night.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

_Tom Hanson_

Standing guard always made me a little nervous. In this case I was plenty nervous. With what happened to _me_ last night I hated knowing there was a chance Doug would have the same fate. Still I stayed put just as he directed and watched the window intently. He made it across the street fine, he fished out a quarter… what was that? Another candy bar? _My_ candy bar. That moocher! … I would get him back for that later. Then Doug _finally_ fished out a quarter and just as he was slipping it into the slot, I felt a hand touch my shoulder. Thinking it was Mark, I slid around instantly with an argument.

"You know if Mark catches him out there, he'll be in for a lot worse than you were last night."

It was Sid, one of the other young men that were recruited from the streets. He had been here longer than Doug and I and he knew his loopholes with this community. He wasn't that friendly of a guy. He kissed plenty of asses; mainly Mark's, got whatever he wanted… and then made sure to let everyone know about it.

He was stood there, his figure against the doorframe with a sickeningly amused smile tugging at his lips. After that bitter smirk sunk under my skin, he leaned to the side to take a quick glance at Doug. "Yep," Sid continued. "He's in deep. How's that head of yours anyway?" He reached behind my head and fluffed through the back of my hair.

"What the hell do you want?" I asked while slapping Sid's hand.

"Relax, Tom!" Sid said with a laugh. He looked at me a few more minutes and then a questioning expression replaced the amusement on his face. "You really don't have a clue what they've done to you?"

I could have said something. I could have asked him what they did to me, I knew he knew, the question was if he would tell me, or if he would tease me and let me find out for myself. So I just turned around and went back to watching the window. Doug was looking around in a paranoid fashion, getting more nervous every time the wind blew.

"Here," Sid said, grabbing onto my arm. "Come with me." Without even a second to object, Sid had dragged me from the bedroom to the wreck area. A few of Mark's sidekicks were standing by the doorway, chatting amongst themselves while the other recruits continued on with keeping themselves busy. With one hand, Sid pointed to one recruit sitting at the corner table by himself. With the other, he reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a remote control.

"What is that?" I asked him.

"It's a remote, and see him?" Sid waved his finger at the man at the corner table. "That's Rob. He's new, came in last night actually, and he's given Mark plenty of problems. He's on his last thread, and every time he gets into trouble Mark uses this." Sid waved the remote, that smug grin of his reappearing.

"That's Mark's?" I asked. "He hasn't caught you with it? And what does it do? I don't understand." Sid covered my mouth and again I slapped his hand away. "Don't play games with me, is Doug in trouble?"

"Too many questions, Tom, too many questions. What happened to Rob is also what happened to you. Watch and learn." Sid pushed a button on the remote and suddenly there was a scream from the corner table. Rob fell out of his chair and fell to the floor, reaching for the back of his head.

"I didn't do anything!" Rob screamed. "Get this thing OFF me!"

"They embedded something in his head?" I asked, slightly skeptical.

"Not embedded. Just attached. It's easily removable with the right equipment, but it hurts like Hell." Seeing Mark come into the room, Sid quickly slid the remote into the pocket of his rob. "You have one of your own, Tom. And every time you do something wrong you get the ZAP. We're animals here, we are not human. They'll work us to the bone. You know all the charity work we've been doing? The clothes we've been mending, the work we've been doing on the house? All of that? It means nothing to them. They feed us a lot of bull and tell us they're going to initiate us into their group, like a fraternity, but all they do is keep those who believe the bull and kill off those who don't. And if you keep getting zapped? You're as good as dead."

I wasn't sure whether or not to believe Sid. Really I had no choice but to believe him. The situation was dangerous and watching Rob on the floor, begging the pain to cease, that could have been Doug. That could be me. Reaching back, I felt the back of my head and sure enough there was a smooth service attached. It wouldn't budge no matter how much I pulled… I was an animal, just like Rob, just like Sid said.

"Who did this?" Mark growled, kneeling at Rob's side. "No one is to control the devices but _me_."

"We're sorry sir, but we didn't…" One of the sidekicks started to defend himself when something caught his eye, something out the window. "… Sir? It looks like someone else had to make a phone call."


	9. Chapter 9

**SCENE NINE**

_Doug Penhall_

The wardrobe selection wasn't smart on Mark's part. It was the beginning of winter and there I was standing there in a robe and nothing but a robe. I felt like an institution escapee on the run from a straight jacket. It wasn't that much warmer in the phone booth, but the transparent walls did shield off the wind.

My fingers were already starting to shake and I hadn't even been in the street for even five minutes. Shuffling through my pocket I searched for some money for the phone. I felt something, but it wasn't money, so what was it? Pulling it from my pocket I … One of Hanson's candy bars. That deserved a "How did that get there?" but luckily I was by myself and away from Hanson's wrath. That man loved his candy stash, but if he loved it so much, you would think he'd find a new hiding place for it. Good thing for me he kept it in the same spot.

Right, so the money. I kept digging through my pockets and eventually I came across a quarter. Once I slipped the money through the slot, it didn't take long for the dial tone to start and I immediately dialed the numbers. Every time the wind whistled through the cracks of the booth I trembled more and more. I kept thinking about Hanson's unconscious body being dragged into the room and thrown onto the bed. The dry blood crusted along his lip and chin… that was only part of the pain, and even though I loved Hanson like a brother, I didn't want that to happen to me. And I didn't want it to happen to Hanson again.

"Hello?" It was Ioki.

"Man, you gotta help us." I said. "These people are nuts!"

"Penhall, that you? Where are you, what happened?"

"We need back up. They got to Hanson and they beat the crap out of him…"

Ioki's voice faded as the phone was handed to another person. I could hear several people calling out my name in the background, trying to ask me questions. One voice rang over the others…

"Where the _hell_ are you boys? We've been looking for you everywhere."

Fuller.

"Some…" I looked around. The street itself looked pretty run-down but the house Mark kept us in was strangely… not. "Run-down neighborhood… with this pretty clean house… and a phone booth and…"

"Do you know any neighboring streets?" Fuller asked me. "There are plenty of run-down neighborhoods in this country, Penhall. We need more than that."

"The street couldn't be far from where you dropped us off at the beginning of our assignment." Penhall said. "I don't know where we are. They didn't want us to know. We need back up…They got to Hanson…"

Fuller asked another series of questions. He asked about Hanson, about Mark and about the entire situation, but one thing kept me from answering. There was a herd of white robes coming in my direction, and the two leading the pack were Mark and Hanson. Each of them were racing to get to me first, Mark with a look of anger and Hanson with a look of fear. It looked bad.

"Did you not learn?" hissed Mark as he slammed his fists against the glass. "You want the same trouble like your brother here!" He took Hanson by his neck and shoved him to the ground.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" I growled, pushing the doors open. Hanson rushed over and stood in front of the doors, holding them shut with his hands.

"Don't blame him," Hanson pleaded. "He didn't do anything."

"What the hell are you doin'? I was the one who-"

"Doug, don't try to cover me," Hanson urged, both with his voice and his eyes. "I told him to come make the call for me… since I couldn't finish the call I made earlier _myself_."

Mark clenched his fists even tighter and he stared directly into Hanson's eyes. The cold ground crunched beneath him as he walked closer to the phone booth. He looked up at me and stared at me for what seemed like hours, as if he was testing me. As if he was waiting for me to break and confess everything. I held my tongue and once realizing this Mark reached into his pocket and retrieved a small remote. He looked away from me to watch Hanson and then pressed one of the buttons. Instantly Hanson fell to his knees with a cry and clenched his head.

"What are you doing?" I demanded as I kicked the wall of the booth. I felt helpless. Hanson's weight against the booth kept the door shut and prevented me from moving. As much as I begged Hanson to get out of the way, he wouldn't. Granted he was in a state of shock – literally – but wouldn't even budge. He just shook his head and took every last shock that Mark delivered. "Stop it, you're gonna kill him, just stop it!"

"It won't kill him." Mark sneered. The anger from his face was gone; the bastard was smiling as if he _enjoyed_ this. He slipped the remote into his pocket and watched as Hanson collapsed onto the sidewalk. "It only clears his mind of the evil spirits. The spirits that haunt him at night and make him want to contact the temptations."

"You almost fried his brain!"

Mark pushed Hanson's body to the side and slid the booth door open. He reached for my collar and dragged me outside.

"You listen to me and you listen well." Mark hissed. "I am a good man, and I am trying to help you. It may be too late for your brother but you still have a chance. I'm going to make sure I turn you around… who knows maybe you can make that brother of yours turn around before tomorrow night."

"What's so important about tomorrow night?" I asked. Mark let go of my collar and started walking across the street, leaving my question unanswered.

I watched Mark only for a few more seconds before turning to rush over to Hanson. Rolling him onto his back, I slid him up and against my chest. He rolled his head to the side, limply, almost like a doll, and his eyes fluttered open.

"Man, you okay?" I asked him. "What the hell did they do you?"

"Initiation." Hanson grumbled with a cough. "Tomorrow night is initiation and you have to be on your best behavior."

"He almost killed you!" I argued. "It shoulda been me!"

"He's still rooting for you, Doug. He thinks you can be initiated. You have to stick by him and see if he says anything about the missing people. We need to close this case before he closes it for us."

"And what about you?" I stood up and swung Hanson's arm over my shoulder.

"I need to find out where we are so we can tell Fuller, so we can get the back up we need."

"You're not going out there alone."

"Doug, if they catch you doing something like this again they'll zap you too."

"…They're gonna what?"

"I'll tell you when we get back to the room." Hanson promised. "Come on, let's go."

Hanson was always one for taking risks, but this time around I wondered if those 'zaps' were making him a little … well… stupid.


	10. Chapter 10

**SCENE TEN**

_Tom Hanson_

We played it cool the rest of the evening. Doug was playing the part of an angelic homeless man pretending to worship the ground Mark walked on. As odd it may have sounded, he did it convincingly. I could see the resistance in his eyes every time he passed, but his good behavior was our key to getting the dirt on the House's actions. We had a feeling this "initiation" would reveal plenty, and Doug and I could not go any further on our own.

While Doug was avoiding further conflict, I managed to get a hold of Ioki and set up a meeting. Well… it would only be a meeting if they found me. Ioki and Fuller were going to drive around and attempt to find the area based on Doug's descriptions. Once they found me, they would stakeout until the initiation and we would take our plan from there.

I woke up bright and early the next morning at exactly 5 A.M. The others would not be up for a few hours, or so I was hoping, and I had exactly twenty minutes to get outside and watch for Ioki's car. However when I rolled over and opened my eyes, there was one person hovering over me that I wasn't expecting…

"You look so _perdy_ when you sleep, Tom."

…Sid.

"_Sid_," I groaned as I slid off of the bed. Doug was still sleeping despite Sid's insensitively loud tone. "Don't you have something better to do then to watch me sleep?"

"Come to think of it, I don't." Sid shrugged his shoulders and looked over at Doug. "Insomnia, Tommy, insomnia. Though sometimes I wish I could saw logs like that brother of yours."

"Leave him alone," I ordered sternly. "And lower your voice, would you? You'll wake him."

"…What exactly are you doing up this early?" Sid walked over to the doorway and leaned against the frame. He was blocking the only way out of the room and he knew that. There was a sly smirk on his face that told me he knew. "Breakfast isn't for another few hours, and Mark will lose it if he sees you out of your room. It's a little early to get your brain fried isn't it?"

"Alright, Sid, what is it you want?" I asked, my voice raised. "You wanna earn points for the big 'initiation' tonight? Run and tell Mark and hope that he sends you a one way pass to Heaven? Or maybe an I.O.U. from God?"

"Would you relax, Tom? I just wanted to get one last look at you before your head is on the chopping block. You know you've been nipping at Mark's heels ever since you've been here and you haven't stopped yet. What are you up to?"

"Move," I ordered as I pushed Sid to the side. "I'll only be a few minutes."

"That's all the time I need to run to Mark's office…"

"Okay, alright. Fine. What is it you want, Sid? There isn't much I can give you for your silence," I plucked the shoulders of my robe. "Just the robe off my back."

"You can keep that thing on and spare us all from seeing your scrawny pale ass, okay?" Sid took a few steps into the hallway and made sure no one else was there before he continued. "Just let me come with you."

"You're nuts. There is no way…"

"I won't bite. I won't bark. I won't squeal. I won't do anything, I swear. I just want out of this house. I wanna see who you've been trying to call and what they're selling."

Alright, so Sid assumed that I was using. Whatever his theory was and how false it might have been, I had no choice but to let him tag along. After all Fuller and Ioki wanted to keep their cover, so the last thing they would drive into the area was a cop car. So the deal was made – Sid could come as long as he stood on the corner and watched for Mark and his sidekicks. This would prevent him from hearing my conversation with Fuller and Ioki and I could walk into the house with Sid assuming I just made a deal with a pair of criminals (with him getting a share of my "earnings"). We both would win.

I had another fifteen minutes to wait and every single minute was going by slowly thanks to Sid. He was not much company, and he had a problem with keeping his mouth shut… literally.

"So what's your deal, man?" Sid asked as he took a seat on the curb. "If you hate Mark so much why'd you even bother coming along?"

"We needed to get in from the cold."

"And so here you are again? Outside? In the middle of December? Wearing nothing but a robe?" Sid shook his head and laughed. "I don't get you, I really don't."

I was tempted to reply, but kept my lips shut when I heard a motor running. It was very faint and it was too early for them to show, but I couldn't risk missing them. I started jogging towards the sound and not too soon after I started I heard a pair of rushed footsteps behind me.

"Sid, stay back there; that was the deal." I told him.

"What? Are you kidding? You have no idea, man, I haven't had a hit in almost a week and it's _killing_ me."

"It's not that, okay? So just back off."

"Back off?" Sid heated. "Back off? You promised me a hit!"

"I promised you nothing!"

"Fine, you want me to back off? Fine!" Sid started back towards the house. "HEY!" He screamed. "HEY, MARK!"

"Sid, come on! Just stop." No matter how much I urged him to stop, he wouldn't. I didn't expect him to, and after the first plea I started running towards the motor. Hopefully it would be the crew and I could still get the business done and still manage a way inside without Mark knowing. It was like asking for a miracle, but it was my only hope.

The footsteps started up again and they were getting closer. I figured it was Sid taking another shot at following me. I ran faster. My breaths became quick; my chest started to ache and my face was stung by the bitter winds. Although I was running as fast as my feet would take me, the footsteps never trailed off. Before I knew it, I was tackled from behind and something flew from the pocket of my robe.

"Three strikes you're out, Tom." That wasn't Sid. That was Mark. Sid was close behind and upon Mark's demand, he kept me pinned to the ground. His sidekicks were rushing up the sidewalk. Caught. Again.

"What is this?" Mark asked as he took a few steps forward. He leaned over and picked up what I had lost. My badge. He flipped it open and walked towards me as he read over my ID. "Officer Tom Hanson… well, Mr. Hanson, it isn't very nice to keep you under the same restrictions as everyone else, is it?" He shoved the badge into his pocket and pulled me up by my collar. With a sinister grin, he felt the back of my head and _ripped_ off the electrical device. I winced and let out a painful groan. Then Mark waved his hands and before I could blink two of his sidekicks had me by my arms. "We're very honored to have Mr. Hanson in the House of Tithing, aren't we boys? Take him to the warehouse and lock him in room B. I'll be there shortly after I talk with Doug."

"Just leave him alone." I ordered. Mark rolled his eyes with a laugh and reached behind my head. He rubbed the spot where the device had been and when he pulled back his hand, it was covered with my blood.

"If you keep losing blood at this rate, you'll be dead before I manage to talk with your 'brother'." Mark stated. "And we wouldn't want that. No, no, we have special plans for you. Sid? Go to the house and tell Jared to get the bus ready. We're starting the initiation process early."


	11. Chapter 11

**SCENE ELEVEN**

_Doug Penhall_

"Alright, Doug, outside! Let's move it!"

God, who was that? As I rolled onto my side, I peeled back the covers just enough to glance at the clock only to see it was… way too early in the morning. Something was off. Something had to be off for them to wake us up before the crack of dawn, even for Mark.

"Hey, yo, Tommy, wake up." I muttered through a yawn. "They're barkin' about somethin' out there."

He didn't respond. I figured the guy was out cold after yesterday's excitement. Then as I threw the covers to the foot of the bed I discovered why he wasn't saying anything. He wasn't there.

"Oh no," I muttered while scrambling to my feet. "Tommy, what'd you do now?" I rushed around the room and collected my clothes, but as I passed the window I looked outside. I could have sworn, in that quick second I saw Ioki's car. After dressing, I hurried outside. I would recognize that freaky haircut anywhere - it was Ioki's car! But why was he here?

"DOUG," called a voice. It was Jared. "Let's go, into the bus!"

"DOUG," called another voice. Ioki. "Get over here!"

"Into the bus!" Jared.

"C'mere, man!" Ioki.

"DOUG." Jared.

"DOUG!" Ioki.

"DOUG. GET OVER HERE NOW." _… Fuller_.

I wasted no time in running over to Ioki's car. Fuller was in the passenger seat, hanging over the window frame. Ioki looked like he hadn't slept in centuries. He was huddled against the heater, rubbing his hands together and occasionally watching the rearview mirror for any unwanted visitors. Fuller looked like he was at the end of his fuse. His eyebrows narrowed, his tone sharp, he looked and sounded like he was ready to kill someone.

"Have you nailed them yet?" Fuller asked. "Do you have any evidence?"

"He did some stuff to Hanson – he's a freak, sir." I urged. "Mark, not… well Hanson can be but…"

"Penhall!" Fuller snapped. "We have been driving around in a freezing car in freezing weather for what seems like weeks. Do you have evidence or not?"

"He's a nutcase, sir. He takes the homeless and takes 'em back here. Then they talk about purity and initiation and stuff, I don't know. They put some electronic device on Hanson last night and he didn't look so good sir."

"He put a what?" Ioki squeaked.

"That's just sick." Fuller remarked. "Do you know where he is? I'm pulling you boys out of here after we get these guys in cuffs."

"Hanson? Uh that's a good question…" I looked to my right, to my left, to my every direction and there was no Hanson to be had. "He's gone…"

Just then I felt a hand grab my arm. I looked over my shoulder to see it was Jared, and he looked just as upset as Fuller.

"Doug who are you talking to?" hissed Jared. He eyed Fuller and bent over to get a good look at Ioki. "I don't know who you people are, I don't know why you keep bugging this guy and his brother, but I wish you'd just stop. Doug's clean now."

Clean? If he only knew what my apartment looked like, he would probably change his mind.

"He's not using, he went through withdrawal already and he's got a better life now," Jared insisted. So that's what he meant. "So just… buzz off, would ya? C'mon Doug." Jared started dragging me towards the driveway. "We have a ride to catch."

Unlike the fancy car Mark rolled up in earlier that week, this time around we were taking the bus. It looked just as rundown as the neighborhood Tom and I were in earlier. There was as much rust as there was paint, one of the headlights were broken as well as a few of the windows.

Mark was seated in the driver's seat, his elbow rested against the window ledge. He had that creepy smile on his face. He wore that smile a little too much. He seemed so welcoming at first, like he wanted to help us. He was an all-around good guy. Then as time went on he became something monstrous, a criminal with an ulterior motive. That's what he was essentially, and each time he gave that creepy smile, it became more and more sadistic. He wasn't a man who wanted to help others find God; he was a man who was sick in the head, literally.

"Doug, sit back and relax." Mark said, gesturing to one of the seats. Getting up from his seat, he pushed me into another and sat beside me. Then he watched as Jared slipped into the driver's side and started the bus. "Take it easy, it's going to be a long ride."

He said nothing after that. We took a fifteen minute drive to some warehouse that was in as great of shape as the bus we were riding in. Basically? Crap. After the scene in front of the house with Fuller and Ioki, I assumed that Mark and Jared were suspicious about who I was and who I was talking to. During the ride over, all Mark could talk about was cleansing the body and the initiation process. And he didn't stop yammering on, even when we were heading into the building.

"So you see, Doug, it's quite simple," Mark said as he opened the front door. He took a few steps in and briefly stopped to make sure I was following. I was uneasy walking into that warehouse. It was dark, damp, and voiced echoes that sent chills down my spine. There was no safety insured in the situation, and I would have bolted if it weren't for one person: Hanson. I had no idea where he was but I had a feeling Mark knew.

We approached a set of doors that led us into a room. It was big and empty with the exception of one chair. It was obvious who that seat was for, and I found that out quick when Mark grabbed me by the collar of my robe. He pushed me into the seat and knelt in front of me, Jared moving out of the room. I imagined he was moving out front to keep guard.

"You see this room?" Mark continued. "This is where we have all our initiations. It's amazing, this building. We got a great deal on it. It used to be a toy factory. It used to be a library. Then it was an indoor pool. This building has been through Hell, literally in some ways, and we thought we'd find a way to bring out the best in the establishment, you know, give it a makeover. This room right here used to be the locker room."

"Where's Tommy?" I asked.

"I'm getting there, Doug. Patience is a virtue you know." Mark stood up and walked across the room to a door across the way. "See this door? Look through the window." With a flip of a switch the room lit up and within was a large pool full of water. Standing at the pool's edge was Jared holding up a very limp and hardly conscious Tom Hanson.

"What'd you do? What are you doing?"

"Doug, come on, let's be honest! Water is pure. Water brings purity. I could go on, but why bother? Let's be honest – honesty is pure too isn't it?" Mark fished in his pocket and threw something in my lap. Hanson's badge. Mark walked over to the door and before I could run after him he left the room and locked me in. "You're going to watch your partner head home, Doug. Head home straight to Hell and then you're going to join him. We don't like cops around here, Doug, they tend to offset our plans."

"You'll never get away with this!" I screamed as I pounded on the door. "This is insane! You're sick! You're a sick bastard!"

"Oh but I have gotten away with it before!" Mark exclaimed. "Ten times before you two to be exact. Jared! Push him in already, we have to get out of here. No doubt they have cops running around, and even though we haven't been caught before, we can't take any chances. It's time to move out and go forward with the rest of our troops. After all, they haven't been initiated yet either."

I banged on that door until my fists were raw. Then after Mark and Jared's footsteps were gone I looked through the window. Hanson was submerged in the water… he didn't have much longer. I had to get him out of there and we had to get to Mark before he got to the others.


	12. Chapter 12

**SCENE TWELVE**

_Doug Penhall_

"Ugh!"

I let out another cry as I hurled my body into the door for the fourth time. The door budged, but hardly, and I wasn't getting anywhere. I would call out for Hanson every three seconds, and every three seconds I wouldn't get an answer, and every three seconds I became more and more worried. I never left him behind. He was my partner and I refused to find my own safety without finding his first. Thinking of the state he was in before he was thrown in kept me motivated to break down the door. My shoulder was hurting, my entire body was in pain, but I refused to leave him behind.

The seconds felt like hours, and with each failed attempt a sliver of doubt made its way through my mind. Maybe he didn't make it, maybe it was too late. No, there was no time to think like that. There was hardly any time to begin with and Hanson needed me. So with one last run, the door flew open and my body landed at the edge of the pool. As I looked into the water, I saw him. His body was moving with the motion of the water; it was like he wasn't even conscious. Without anymore hesitation, I dove into the water and made my way towards his body.

The swim down seemed long. My shoulder, injured from the door, throbbed more with every stroke. I winced every time the pain surged through my body but I kept going. Then, as I grasped onto Hanson's body, the pain was nothing. I didn't feel anything; the only pain I felt was his. I swung his arm around my neck, pulled his body close to mine and stormed to the surface.

"C'mon, Tommy," I told him as I pushed him onto the floor. His arm slapped against the tile and his head fell to the side. His eyes were closed and his chest was _still_. "C'mon, Tommy…" Kneeling at his side, I gently tapped his cheek. Nothing. With no other choice, I tilted back his head and checked his airways. Then I put my lips against his and attempted to resuscitate him. With each breath I was hoping to see his chest move, I was hoping to hear him make some witty remark about something. _Anything_. But every time I pulled back to observe him, I saw the same motionless man.

Tears started to fill my eyes.

"Tommy, please, don't do this." I quietly whimpered. "I need you, man."

Another attempt to resuscitate. Nothing.

"No, you can't leave us now." I whispered. "You can't leave us all behind!"

Another attempt, the same motionless man remained. I stared at his eyelids for a moment and pushed back some of his hair, hoping that his hair was hiding his eyes. Hoping that somehow I was wrong about this, he was awake and well. However as soon as I looked down at him and I saw those eyes were closed, I lost it.

"Damn it, no! You can't just die, Tommy. Damn it, Tommy!" With my next attempt, I compressed my hands against his chest even harder. The only chest that was moving was my own. He was gone. I sat on the floor and hid my face behind my eyes, shielding the motionless Tom Hanson from seeing my tears. I wept and I wept loudly, rocking myself back and forth.

Then through all of the tears I heard something.

I heard a _cough_.

Looking over, my red eyes went wide with relief and with joy. Tom's eyes were cracked open, his pupils barely visible. His chest was moving and although they were faint, I could hear his breaths.

"Doug…" he mumbled, reaching out to me with a shaky hand. "Doug they know about us."

I pulled him into my arms and took him in a bear hug.

"I know, man, I know." I said to him. "Are you okay?"

"My head," he said, his voice quiet. "My head..."

"It's gonna be okay, Tom. Just hang in there okay?"

"I gotta finish this," said a voice. I looked towards the door. It was Sid. He was holding onto a gun that was aimed toward us. "It's part of my initiation." He walked closer, his hand starting to shake. I could tell he didn't want to do this. Then as Hanson turned his head, Sid jumped back. "They said they'd take care of him!" He exclaimed.

"Sid, you don't have to do this." I urged.

"They said they'd take care of him for me so I wouldn't do it." he squeaked. "Cause I didn't wanna kill him."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." I motioned to the floor. "Just put the gun down."

"You don't understand, Doug." Sid whispered. "I gotta finish this." He wrapped his finger around the trigger. "I gotta finish this…"


	13. Chapter 13

**SCENE THIRTEEN**

_Tom Hanson_

"You don't understand, Doug." Sid whispered. "I gotta finish this." He wrapped his finger around the trigger. "I gotta finish this…"

I didn't really know what was going on. The room was nothing but a haze and the voices were muffled. My head was throbbing and felt like it weighed twice its usual. I almost died in that pool. I was completely helpless at that point. I remembered trying to climb out, but not having the strength to move any further than the corner of the pool. If it wasn't for Doug I would have been dead. Even though I couldn't make out much in the room, I could see Sid and I could see his gun.

"Sid, please don't do this." I urged in a soft voice. His bottom lip trembled and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to pull himself together.

"Don't do that," Sid warned. "Don't even talk."

I remembered what he said about Mark and how they promised to kill me so Sid wouldn't have to. There was something going on there, but I couldn't exactly pinpoint it. The most I could figure out was that he actually kind of liked me. Despite his tendency to annoy and pester, he was okay company. But to Sid, a once homeless man who lost everything, okay company could mean a lot more than what I assumed it to be.

"Sid, if they did this to me, if they tried doing it to Doug, then they're going to kill you too." I explained. "They don't help anyone. They're bad people."

"I'm a bad person, Tom, can't you understand?" Sid moved a few steps closer. "I'm a bad person, I was a drug addict who was living on the streets. My bed was a cardboard box and my blanket was a newspaper. I had _nothing_, I lost it all to some sick and twisted habit and no one wanted me. Then Mark showed up… he helped me get clean, he helped me turn into a better person…"

"And you're holding a gun to our face?"

"It's for the greater good!" he argued. "It's for the greater good…"

"They ran off, Sid." I explained. "They ran off like cowards. They're not coming back for you. There is no initiation. You even said it yourself, they treat us like animals. They're leaving you to do the dirty work and you're the one that is going to be arrested."

"I have nothing to lose. You don't get it."

"When you have nothing to lose," I motioned towards the floor. "It means you have everything to gain. Put the gun down, Sid, and you can live a clean and free life. I promise."

Everything was starting to get blurry. Even _my_ voice sounded muffled. Everything was distorted and my eyelids were feeling heavy. I looked up at Doug who only looked down at me, us sharing the same worried expression on our faces. Then we looked over to Sid.

He stood there, his shaking arm clenching the gun. He stared into my eyes so deeply it was like he was trying to read my soul. It was like he wanted me to take the gun from him, like he didn't have the power to do it on his own. He looked scared. He looked confused. And his finger was still close to the trigger.

The three of us stood in silence for a few minutes, just staring at one another. Saying anything could have_ triggered_ Sid to pull the _trigger_. He could have killed us both at that very moment and everything would be over. His eyes were different from five seconds ago. They were no longer angry. They were welled up with tears and the more I looked into them the more I realized mine were also. Very slowly he lowered the gun and placed it on the ground. Then we heard something.

"Sirens," Sid whispered. "Sirens! Oh god, this can't be happening."

"It's okay," Doug said with an assuring nod of his head. "We'll straighten this out, okay?" Doug looked down at me, his eyes carrying just as much concern as they did before. My eyes continued to flutter back and I found myself drifting in and out. "Don't worry, Tom, we'll get you to a hospital soon."

That was the last thing I heard.

-----

Mumbling. As I woke I heart voices mumbling. Voices were mumbling and machines were humming. Machines? Why were there machines? As my vision sharpened I saw the white of the walls, the faint blue bed sheets and the _medical_ machinery throughout the room. I was at the hospital.

"Doug…" I whispered. I tried to push myself up, but a strong hand gently pushed me onto the mattress. It was Fuller. He was there alone. No Ioki. No Judy. No Doug.

"Easy there, Hanson," he said in a soft voice. "Take it easy, you need your rest."

"What happened? Where is everyone? Where's Doug?"

"They almost killed you. You're lucky to be alive. If Doug hadn't gotten to you sooner, you would have been dead. Judy's in the cafeteria getting coffee and Ioki went to make a call to the station."

"Captain," I pleaded. "Where's Doug?"

Fuller's face suddenly became somewhat distressed and he looked down at the floor. After taking in a long breath, he raised his chin and looked me straight in the eye.

"We got a lead as to where Mark was." Fuller sighed nervously and shook his head. "After finding out where they were he charged out of here at full speed."

"Where are they?" I asked. "Where did he go?"

"You just rest; it isn't healthy for you to stress yourself."

"I want to go." I stated firmly. "I'm going to go find him. Where is he?"

"You can barely stay awake, Hanson, how do you think you'll manage to-"

"You don't understand!" I exclaimed. "He saved my life! Now _his_ life can be at stake."

"He saved your life, yeah, and he charged right out of here wanting to beat those guys to a pulp to what they did to you!" Fuller said sternly. "He's risking his life, alone, with no cover-"

"He needs back up!"

"He needs to get his ass back here before he gets himself killed! You nearly died. You're not going out there. I'm not going to risk losing two police officers, it's bad enough having one out there" Fuller started for the door. "I'm going to check on Ioki and see if he found out anything about the case. Until then you stay here. _My_ orders. You understand?"

I hesitated, an angry spark in my eyes, and I simply nodded. I had to find a way out of this.


	14. Chapter 14

**SCENE FOURTEEN**

_Doug Penhall_

Evening was approaching. The sun was hours away from descending the sky and there wasn't much time left. If I wanted to catch up with Mark, I would have to move quickly.

I overheard a call Fuller got from the station. Our men caught up with Mark's crew; however Mark was the only man able to escape. According to his crew, he rushed somewhere downtown. I asked around the streets and no one knew of him. No one knew of a panicked man in a white robe. Every place I thought he could be, he wasn't, and I was down to the last thing on my list… the streets.

I parked the car around the corner from the very curb he picked up his usual victims, including both Hanson and myself. I made my way down the street in a casual manner, though slightly hurried, and eyed those occupying the sidewalks. There were some new faces, but most of the people I saw were the same folks we ran into from before. I knew he had to be here. They were looking everywhere else, they expected him to hide indoors; they expected him to drive at a ridiculously fast speed down the highway; they didn't expect him to be sitting in the open.

All of them were coughing, sneezing and hacking. Every one of them was sick from the cold winter weather. Their complexions lost their color, their lips were chapped, and their eyes looked tired. They had been out here for days, weeks, maybe even longer. All of them looked ill… all but one. There was one huddled by the dumpster, just in the alley. He had a large blanket wrapped around his body. The shadow from the buildings made it difficult to make out his face. I saw his body turn towards me, and while I couldn't see his face, he saw mine. And he started to run.

Wasting no time, I sprinted down the narrow passageway and ordered him to stop. I knew he wouldn't, but there was no harm in trying. He rushed through the alley and into the street. The evening sun poured over his body from head to toe. It was Mark alright. He had no crew to keep him company, to shield him from the crime he committed and the punishment he was bound to receive. The only things keeping him from facing the consequences were his determination and his two feet. He forgot one thing – I had those too.

The chase went on for nearly ten minutes by foot. My legs were tired but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. I was _so_ close to him and at any moment he would slow down… but I couldn't just wait for that moment. I had to run, even faster than I already was, and pin him to the ground. Putting aside all the fatigue and the pain that overwhelmed my body, I pushed myself harder. As we turned another corner, he started to lose his pace, just a little, but it was enough for me to grab him. I took hold of his collar and yanked him back to my chest. Then I pushed him onto his stomach and held him down.

"You have the right to remain silent…" I started. Mark turned his head and looked at me from the corner of his eye. Then he started to laugh.

"You know you won't be able to stop me," Mark hissed.

"Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…"

"There are so many other people out there like me, Doug."

"You have the right to speak to an attorney…"

"And if you thought I was the ringleader in all of this, you're wrong." Mark started to laugh again. "You just wait until they hear about this. They can do a lot more damage than what I did. And to think all I did was give Tommy boy a few bruises."

"…and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer…" I stopped just then and narrowed my eyebrows. "You almost killed him."

"Just him." Mark said with a shrug. "Give me a few weeks, and I can show you what those associates of mine can do."

"…You know what?" I growled. "You know what?" I felt like giving him a piece of my mind, letting him know where he stood and what my badge meant. But I had to keep myself in the right frame of mind. "If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense. Do you understand?"

"You don't know what damage I can do. You thought your little friend in the hospital was almost dead then… just a few weeks. You just wait."

"Do you understand?" I repeated.

"I'm only one person. One tiny person in a crowd of hundreds… all with the same intent."

"Do you understand your rights?"

"Yeah, yeah! Fine already!"

"Let's go," After cuffing him, I pulled him to his feet and started walking towards the police car. All criminals talked trash, but I couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't all talk…


	15. Chapter 15

**SCENE FIFTEEN**

_Tom Hanson_

I woke up to the sound of the door slamming against the wall as it opened.

"Iokage!"

"I'm sorry! It's hard to hold onto the door when I'm carrying two _very_ hot cups of coffee."

Doug and Ioki. Ioki was holding onto a paper bag and a carton holding two Styrofoam cups.

"Yeah well you woke him up."

"Doug, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Ioki."

"Why didn't _you_ hold the door open? You aren't carrying anything?"

I looked past them as they continued into the room, bickering the entire way. It was almost eight o' clock in the morning. I didn't even remember falling asleep the night before.

"Simple! I'm carrying something very important!"

"And what is that?"

Then a deep voice sounded from the doorway.

"His dignity, that's what." It was Fuller. "Or maybe you lost it on the way upstairs when you spilled crème all over my shirt."

"I'm sorry! I lost balance and…"

"I smell food." I interrupted. All at once they turned to me, as if noticing me for the very first time. I eyed the bag in Ioki's hand, and with that big smile of his, he handed it to me.

"We got you a burger at the diner." Ioki said.

"Burger?" Fuller questioned. "I thought you said you got him a bagel? You know, since it was on the list of authorized foods from the doctor?"

"Bagel… hamburger…" Doug shrugged his shoulders and took a seat on the corner of my bed. "It goes to the same place and out the same hole so what does it matter?"

"You sure know how to kill an appetite, Doug." I muttered.

"What, you not gonna eat your burger?" He asked with hungry eyes. I took a huge bite and held the burger to my chest.

"I'm gonna eat it, thanks. Beats the dishwater they've been giving me." I glanced at the clock again and then looked at Doug. "You guys are here early."

"Well we have to leave for our flight in an hour." Doug explained. My eyebrows raised.

"Where we goin'? Mark still on the run?"

Doug looked at Ioki who looked at Fuller who then sighed. He took a seat in a chair by the bed and slid close to me.

"No, Doug got Mark. But we need to get you two elsewhere for a while, for safety purposes."

Safety purposes? What on earth was he talking about? Puzzled, I put my burger aside and looked at Doug. Usually he was the first to break down and deliver any bad news if a person stared at him long enough. It was my way of pushing his buttons and he knew this. He groaned, annoyed with my staring method and rubbed his face. His hesitation wasn't a good sign, and I prepared myself for the worst.

"He knows people," Doug explained. "He knows a _lot_ of people and he uh… threatened to get them on our tails."

"Just how many people?" I asked.

"Hundreds." Doug whispered. I felt my face lose its color. With a sigh, I shut my eyes and slammed my head against the pillow.

"We _think_ he knows people," Fuller corrected. "He could have exaggerated things to psych Doug out, but we have to be careful with this. We checked into it, and he does know one other cult member a few states north."

"But that's just one."

"He's one person, yeah, but he's the only member that has a criminal record. He's the only one to get caught." Fuller got up from his chair and walked over to the window. "If Mark has gotten away with the torture he put you guys through to his other victims? Think of what his other men can do. We're sending you guys to the countryside down south. Just for a week or two until we can clarify what's going on. We'll have a few guys keeping guard on you 24/7."

"You can't be serious!" I exclaimed. "I mean how are we going to work? Get money? Buy food? How long will we be out there if you find out something worse?"

"Hanson, you have to trust us on this." Fuller turned around and looked at me with pleading eyes. "We want you two to stay low for a few weeks, and then we'll talk about bringing you back, or letting you stay out there. Worst comes to worst, you and Penhall will work behind a desk out there for a while. We just don't want you here where they know where to find you."

"But-"

"Out of what could be _hundreds_ of people, we have only managed to find _one_." Fuller looked at Doug and then back at me. "Just one, Hanson. You and Penhall are going to go on this vacation, read a paper, write a novel, do what you want but stay out of sight, you got it?"

"... No dishwater soup?"

Fuller's stern expression broke and a very, very faint grin tugged at the corners of his lips.

"No dishwater soup."

I looked over at Doug with scared eyes; his eyes were no different. We were both in for the ride of our lives. For the first time I felt like we were going in over our heads.


	16. Chapter 16

**SCENE SIXTEEN**

_Tom Hanson_

_It was early and the sun was slowly peaking over the horizon. Its faint and nearly hidden rays of light barely stretched across the front yard of our new (and hopefully temporary) home. The entire house was quiet except for the faint rustle by the door. I had been asleep on the couch but started to stir as the rustling turned into footsteps. Assuming it was only Doug, I kept my eyes closed and attempted to go back to sleep. However the footsteps neared the couch, heels of boots clunking against the hardwood floor. There was heavy breathing with each breath shaken and quick. Not even questioning who the presence belonged to, I opened my eyes only to be faced with the barrel of a gun._

_"We haven't finished this yet." Said the voice. When I was able to tear my eyes away from the gun, I saw his face. Mark. The clicking of the trigger… I couldn't move. It was like I was tied down… "It's a shame," he said with a grin. "I really wanted to kill you off first, but your partner here was too quick on his feet." My partner? What was he talking about? Looking past Mark I turned my attention to the floor where a trail of blood stained the floorboards. The crimson trail led to a body, Doug's body, that was motionless… lifeless. "It's your turn now, Hanson." Bang._

"Hanson!" I heard a voice call. "Hanson! C'mon man, you're really scaring me here."

Feeling a pair of hands shake my shoulders, I snapped awake with a scream. "Hey, hey, calm down, Tommy. It's alright." It was Doug. We were in his car and he was hovering over me. He was fine. He was alive. I was alive. I looked around. We were sitting in a driveway. No Mark to be found. "Tommy? Say somethin'."

"What… um." My mind was speeding so fast I could barely catch up.

"You dozed off on the way over." Doug explained. "I started pulling into the driveway and you started screaming. You okay?"

"Driveway?" I looked at him, nothing but confusion in my eyes. "Where are we?"

"Fuller sent us out here for a while," Doug unbuckled his seatbelt and let it slip back into place. "Remember?"

"Oh…" I followed suit and unbuckled my belt. "Yeah." Doug stared at me for a moment, that same worried expression on his face.

"Let's head inside." He motioned, stepping out of the car. "You need to lay down for a while."

My senses started to come into play and I finally managed to get a grip on reality. I opened the car door and jumped out only to collapse against the side of the car.

"I'm fine," I insisted. "I just need some coffee."

"Easy, easy!" Doug rushed over and slipped his arm around me. "You still need some recovery time. Let's get you inside, I got something for you."

He had something to give me? With Doug that could have been anything, but I was touched nonetheless. Maybe this "vacation" wouldn't be that bad. I looked over and offered him a warm smile. Seeing this, Doug faintly smiled and we made our way to the front door of our temporary home.

It was a small cottage with a colorful flowerbed bordering the outside. There was a large tree near the edge of the yard with another on the other side, nearly parallel. Approaching the house I could see inside the windows and it already looked homey. It looked cozy, warm, and a nice getaway from winter and all of the drama that had consumed our lives.

It was just as open and welcoming inside. There were only a few rooms: a living area, a kitchen and dining area, a bathroom and a bedroom. The house was fairly small but livable, surely something I could get used to.

There would be a huge adjustment involved with moving in. It wasn't that I minded living with Doug, because I didn't, but I was away from my family and friends. Everyone I knew was hours away and I had no way of visiting them, after all they were not allowed to know where we were for our protection. On one hand I wanted to call it a bunch of bull but I knew that this was the safest way to avoid Mark and those he possibly knew. And to be honest? I thought he was pulling a poker face with all of this. I didn't think he really knew anyone, just those in his group, and they bailed on him the minute things went downhill. There was a very slim chance they would follow him again after such a close call with the authorities.

"Here," Doug said, his voice pulling me from my train of thought. He pushed the door open and helped me inside. "I'm amazed you can walk as well as you do."

"I heal fast," I remarked as I fell onto the couch. Across from it was a fairly large television and a coffee table with a floral centerpiece. "Fuller said he was sending out some sort of bodyguard or something wasn't he?"

"Yeah, just someone to watch us over the next couple of days." Doug shrugged, shuffling through his duffel bag. "Probably some huge and bulky guy with the arms the size of tree trunks."

"Twice our size and three times as strong?"

"Yeah, who could probably snap us like a twig." Doug said with a laugh. With a huge smile, he pulled out a small gift, sloppily wrapped in paper with a huge red ribbon on top. "Here you go, buddy." He threw it to me and then flopped in the armchair just near the couch.

"What is this?"

"Just open it. I owe it to you."

I tore the wrapping paper and as I pulled it away I noticed a brown candy wrapper. _Snickers_. It was a _Snickers_ bar. For a moment I only stared at it, wondering how through all of this, Doug somehow remembered this. I looked up to him, a huge smile across my face, and I started to laugh.

"Doug," I said through my chuckles. "I don't know what to say."

"Hey, you don't have to say anything." Doug said, slouching into the chair. "Just know that as soon as we get back to the chapel the tables will be turned. And your stash might mysteriously deplete."

"Well then I'll have to make this last, won't I?"

"Hey, hey, let's not get drastic!" Doug laughed. "Just enjoy this spare moment of my gratitude and take life as it comes."

"You just wanna tap into my stash when we get back don't ya?"

"What? Pfft. No."

Riiight.


	17. Chapter 17

**SCENE SEVENTEEN**

_Doug Penhall_

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I apologize for the delay in updating. I was unable to get to a computer for a while due to personal reasons. But I'm back!)_

The rest of the day went by with a blink of an eye. Tom and I spent the afternoon settling in and unpacking our things. There was only one bedroom, but luckily it had two beds. We spent a good fifteen minutes arguing about whether or not I snore. That's how I knew this would be an interesting couple of weeks. Talk about snoring, that night Tom was sawing some heavy logs. I'm sure I was too, but technically if I was to keep with my argument, I don't snore.

Around two in the morning I heard something in the kitchen. It was loud enough to wake me, obviously, but when I opened my eyes Tom was still snoozing. I stayed in my bed and listened for a moment. There went the noise again. An occasional thud, as if someone was running into something. The doors were locked.

"Hey, Tommy," I whispered. "Yo Tommy, wake up."

The man in the other bed didn't move a muscle and remained in his slumber. I heard the thud again and this made me a little nervous. It could have been the house settling or the door swinging open because of the wind; no matter what it was I needed to know. "Tommy!" I called in a louder voice. The only response given was a soft snore muffled by the covers. I reached for my spare pillow and tossed it to the other bed. It hit Tom's back and with a sharp movement, his eyes opened and his body flew forward.

"Mm, wha?" Tom rubbed at his eyes. "What's goin' on, Doug? Why'd you wake me up?"

"There's a noise in the kitchen."

"Thanks for the bulletin," Tom grumbled. He pulled the covers over his head and readjusted himself.

"Tom, I think we should check it out."

"You go check it out, I'm busy sleepin'."

"What if it's a robber or something?"

"Doug, you're a trained police officer. You're used to this kind of thing."

"Yeah but never in my own place!"

The body piled under the covers rolled over and with a grunt Tom sat up, his head barely peaking out. Even though I couldn't see much of his face, I could still make out his sleepy and angry eyes. Sliding out of the bed (and still wrapped like a burrito with the comforter), he shuffled over to me and slapped me in the face with a pillow.

"You big baby." He remarked. He let the covers drop to the floor and started for the hallway. I followed behind him. What a sight this must have been – two men (only in boxers) - one angrily and sleepily shuffling down the hallway as the other fearfully followed while holding onto, of all things, a hairbrush. What? It was the only thing lying around and a man has to protect himself!

As we neared the kitchen, the noise only got louder. Someone was very clumsy. For a cat burglar, or an attempted intruder, this person was doing a really bad job at breaking the law. On the other hand, Tom was doing a bad job at being a cop. Any idiot could hear his feet shuffling along the carpet miles away. Match that with the occasional swear word from the clumsy intruder and we have ourselves possibly the worst break-in situation I have ever been involved with.

"It is two in the morning," Tom grumbled to this intruder. I gently pulled at his arm. What the heck was he doing? Speaking? What ever happened to the sneak-up-on-the-intruder-so-he-doesn't-run-away approach? Tom pushed my hand aside and made his way into the kitchen. "I have had someone attempt to kill me, my partner also. My partner snores like a bear. I can't sleep. I finally sleep and what happens? You come barreling through the front door and my cowardly lion of a partner runs to me and asks me to take care of you like a woman runs to her husband asking him to kill a spider." Well. Someone was touchy.

Surely enough someone's shadowed figure was hovered in the corner by the door. The intruder attempted to say something but was toppled by Tom while I stood behind him, waving the hairbrush around in a deathly manner.

"Ah!" cried the voice. "What the heck are you doing? It's just me, it's just me!"

"…Ioki?" I whimpered. Tom got up and flipped the lights. Yep. Ioki. "Man what the hell are you doin' here? Don't you know how to knock?"

Tom zeroed in on the hairbrush in my hand and raised his eyebrows.

"What the hell is that?" he asked.

"…A hairbrush."

"What for?"

"Protection."

"What were you going to do?" asked Tom. "Comb him to death?"

"I will have you know," I defended. "You don't comb with a brush, you brush with a brush. And you comb with a comb."

"For the love of…" Tom grumbled and started shuffling towards the doorway. "I'm going back to bed."

"They may have found Mark." Ioki interrupted. This caused Tom to stop in his tracks. "We may have to move you guys again. He caught onto our trail and has been roaming around the area." He pulled a photograph from his pocket and handed it to me. It was a recent photograph of Mark and Sid was with him. "Do you guys know who that is with him?" Tom hovered over my shoulder and once seeing Sid his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"That's Sid…" Tom mumbled. "I thought he was cleared already?"

"He _was_," Ioki sighed. "But Mark has ties with him. They were in the State Asylum together a few years ago."

"State Asylum?" I asked. "Sid never mentioned that before. Are you sure?"

"Positive. Sid probably didn't mention it because he shouldn't have left in the first place. He was transferred to another asylum and then escaped a few months ago. That's when Mark got to him. Fuller looked up the report on him and we went to get him and he was gone."

"Mark escape too?"

"No, Mark departed from the asylum a well man. Obviously he relapsed."

"So him and Sid are just running around?" I asked. "With his hundreds of people?"

"Apparently." Ioki shrugged. "Just the two of them. Our records on Mark show no affiliations with anyone other then a handful."

"What are they doing running around together?"

"We don't know. But they're nearby so we need to get you guys out of here."

"No," Tom stated. "I'm not going to run anymore. I can't do this anymore."

"It's just one more move," I told him. "Just one more. That's it."

"No it's not!" Tom cried. "Today it's one more move, tomorrow it'll be another. We'll keep running. We're police officers, Doug. We are supposed to serve justice not run from it!" He rushed down the hallway in the direction of the bedroom.

"Hanson! Where you goin'?"

"To pack my stuff." He hissed. "I'm going to take care of this myself."

"You're crazy! This man nearly killed you. He nearly killed me! And you wanna take him alone. You were just in the hospital."

"I'm gonna take care of this," Tom insisted. "I have to."

"It's too dangerous out there, Hanson," Ioki urged. "You should stay here. Let us take care of it."

"I don't feel safe anymore!" Tom said. "I can't fall asleep without thinking how I might die in my sleep because some nutso idiot wants to take us out. I'm doing this."

"Fuller's gonna kill you." I warned.

"I'm doing this." He went into the bedroom and slammed the door. I groaned and turned to Ioki.

"He's too stubborn for his own good." I muttered.

"What should we do?" Ioki asked. I thought about that for a second. Tom out there all alone, eventually coming face-to-face with two former mentally disturbed people... One of them a criminal and the other a criminal in the making... The man was too stubborn.

"I don't know about you," I told Ioki. "But I'm going with him."


	18. Chapter 18

**SCENE EIGHTEEN**

_Tom Hanson_

We decided to head out immediately. We went armed – I had a gun and Doug had a hairbrush in each pocket. Kidding. For this expedition he was properly armed, which made me feel a little safer considering we weren't going to take on a hair stylist. It was dark. It was pitch black. We couldn't see much of anything, only what the car's headlights covered. It was now 2:30 in the morning and we were exhausted. Ioki urged us to wait until morning but I couldn't risk losing Mark's trail. Granted I didn't really know what Mark's trail was but I knew he was in the state, which was good enough. Besides, Doug and I had a hunch Mark would be somewhere near the asylum. It was the only common link they had – and while I was confused as to why they put us in the same area as the asylum. Maybe someone flubbed up with the paperwork, who knew, but it was a disguised blessing. We could take this guy down and my need for safety would be satisfied. It felt selfish in a way, but in a situation like this one could only be selfish.

Ioki chose not to come. He had no choice but to go to Fuller, it was his job. However we did manage to convince him to have a difficult time getting to a phone. He agreed, though against the rules, to give us a head start. And in an hour he would go to Fuller with the news. Fuller was a smart man, he could smell a foul fib a mile away so we didn't have much time, even after the head start.

The streets were empty, the sidewalks were vacant, and the buildings were dark. The city was in a dead sleep and the only people who were awake and functioning were the two of us. I think out of both of us, Doug was more tired. He had been staying up at night being the worry wart he was, worrying about me, the situation, and our new location. I did want to end this so we didn't have to run anymore, but I wanted to end this so I wouldn't have to depend on him so much. After all he saved my life and I was very grateful for that but I felt as if he was on call for my sake. I felt helpless and I didn't want him risking his life for mine when I was trained to protect myself. Ever since leaving the hospital I had thought of this constantly, and thinking about it that very moment, I turned to Doug.

He had bags under his eyes, his body was hunched over and his face was more pale than usual. It hurt me to see him like that. I couldn't believe what a mess we had gotten ourselves into. And with Christmas just around the corner, we both wanted this huge conflict to be done with. Noticing my stare, Doug quickly glanced at me and then turned back to the road.

"You okay?" he asked me.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." I told him. "We just never really had a chance to talk about what happened back in the warehouse… with the water and…"

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Yeah it was… well. I don't know." I ran my fingers through my hair and chewed on my lower lip. I was speechless right at the time I really wanted to speak. "Wet. It was really wet…"

"Wet…" Doug muttered with his eyebrows raised. "Yeah it was… _wet_."

"Yeah. Wet. I just wanted to um… You know, with the water. It was just everywhere and…"

"Hanson," Doug laughed. "You sure you don't want to sleep a bit? We have about twenty minutes before we reach the asylum and-"

"No, no. I'm not tired. Well I'm tired, but that's not why I'm-"

"Tommy?"

"Yeah?"

"Spit it out."

"Thanks." I said gently. "For um, saving my ass back there."

"No problem." Doug said. A timid but obliged smile tugged the corners of his lips but quickly faded. That brief moment of gratitude washed away as memories of the event took over. I could tell he was thinking about it, so was I. To bring him out of it, I reached over and softly touched his arm. He jerked his head and looked at me, tears in his eyes. "Sorry," he said as he dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve. "Just came close to losin' you, ya know?"

"Well if it weren't for you…"

"I know," he interrupted. "I'm just glad you're here."

"Yeah so am I." I watched as the scenery flew past us as we sped down the road. "Who else would give you your chocolate fix?"

"Yeah whatever," Doug laughed. "I could just buy some."

"You?" I snorted. "Doug Penhall pulling money out of his own wallet to buy his own candy? When Hell freezes over."

"You're right; I'd be totally lost without you."

We exchanged weak smiles to one another; Doug went back to watching the road and I continued watching the world pass us by. The ride was fairly quiet the rest of the way to the asylum. After nearly twenty minutes of peace, the silence was broken by a low whistle from Doug.

"Get a load at that place." Doug whispered.

The asylum was gigantic, spanning from one end of the street to the other. A huge willow tree hovered over the walkway, its branches drooping from the icicles' heavy coating. It was spooky, and as we circled the building we realized that the place in general seemed gloomy. Then as we drove past the side of the building I noticed something wrong.

"Doug, look at the side entrance." I pointed out. "It's open."

"Isn't it a little late for visitors?"

"Exactly. We should check it out. You take the inside, I'll take the outside."

"What am I gonna do once I'm inside? We're not supposed to be on duty, remember? They'll call the police and we're done for."

"I don't know, be creative. Say you're looking for a job and you were wondering if they were hiring."

"At 2:30 in the morning?" Doug squeaked.

"Say you're working nightshift! They love that kind of stuff."

"And I just walk into a building that's supposed to be locked?"

"Doug!" I sighed. "Come on, don't start with the technicalities."

"Fine, fine. You just be careful outside, you got it? You shouldn't be walking around anyway."

"Got it. So go."

I waited until Doug went into the building until I chose to get out of the car. As soon as I opened the door I was reunited with the cold December wind. I shivered and started to make my way towards the side area where the door was left open. I checked behind bushes, trees, and in shaded areas. Nothing. No traces of Mark or Sid. Maybe they weren't here anymore. Maybe they found out we were here and went looking for _us_. That thought alone made me shiver more than I did from the wind.

Then, as I turned around the corner, I felt the cold barrel of the gun poking the back of my head.

"You have ten seconds to get in the car." Said a gruff voice. It was Sid. "One… two…"


	19. Chapter 19

**SCENE NINETEEN**

_Doug Penhall_

It wasn't as spooky inside as it was outside. It was quiet, which could have been spooky, but I expected silence it being so early in the morning. With the side entrance being unlocked, I expected security to be tied up and they certainly were; a security guard was crumpled in a pile on the floor in the corner. There was a puddle of blood in front of his body. Mark and Sid were in here. I could feel it.

I continued moving through the building. People were quiet, sleeping, dreaming… all unaware of the dangerous conditions their lives were in. The only sound I could hear was the squeaking of my sneakers against the tile floor. _Squeak. Squick. Squeak. Squick._ This was not going to get me any closer to either Mark or Sid. I slipped off my shoes, left them in a corner and started down the hallway once again.

Silence. It was an uncomfortable silence that made my hair stand on edge. I kept thinking about Tom taking the outside. What if Mark and Sid had left the building already? What if they never went inside the building and someone else opened the door? I knew Tom could hold off one, but together Mark and Sid were a strong force that only Tom and I could handle together. The thought of either of us being cornered by both of them was terrifying.

Time was flying by and the head start Ioki had given us was nearly gone. I knew Fuller would immediately find us and give us heck. We were going against orders and who knows, we could probably lose our badges over this, but we had to bag Mark. I wanted to stay at the house but I knew how stubborn Tom was, and if Tom wanted to go out and arrest him some criminals, then he would go out and arrest him some criminals, regardless if he had anyone to accompany him. I didn't want to run anymore then he did. And just then, when I heard something at the end of the hallway, I knew our running would soon be over.

I tiptoed down the hallway and poked my nose around the corner. Huddled in the doorway of the medicine closet was Mark. He was shoving pills, needles and whatever else could find into a pillow case. He probably needed them for whatever sick plans he had. My guess? He was probably going to form a new cult in a new location. But I couldn't let that happen. I carefully snuck behind the door, wrapping my fingers around the knob and waited as Mark went further into the closet. Then I darted inside, causing the door to move and shut behind me. Mark shot around and his eyes widened when he saw _me_ standing before him. Feeling around, he grabbed one of the needles on the shelf. I threw him against the shelves and held down his arms.

"You're under arrest." I muttered.

"How'd you find me?" Mark asked angrily as he tried to wiggle his way out of my grip. I tightened my hands around his wrists until my fingers started to hurt.

"We've been lookin' for you." I replied, giving him another shove. Letting out a frustrated grunt, Mark shoved me into the shelves, causing bottles of pills to fly everywhere. Mark shook the door handle and then kicked my leg.

"No!" He mumbled. "No, no, no!"

"What's wrong?" I teased. "Can't find your way out?"

"No, you idiot!" Mark hissed. "The door locks when you shut it, you just locked us in here!"

… Oopsie. I guess the door locked to prevent any patients from getting into the medicine (unless they were like Mark and broke in). Judging from his whining I was guessing whatever method he used to get _into_ the closet would not get him _out_ of the closet. I couldn't fully understand the logic with the door, but what was important was that Mark couldn't leave. What stunk was that _I_ couldn't leave either. And to make sure that Mark wasn't pulling my leg, I shook the door handle too.

"Yep." I said with a nod. "It's locked."

"Great job, Einstein. A+."

"Hey, don't look at me. You're the one stocking up on medication like a mad man."

"I would have gotten away with it if you didn't lock the door!"

"Yeah well I did!" I defended. "And I meant to! I'm slick, all cops are slick!"

"You didn't mean to, you didn't even know the door locked! You just got lucky!"

"Yeah well there you are. In a room. That's _locked_. Where's your little electric buzzer thing now, huh? You can't get away from me now."

Mark came at me with a cry, took a handful of my hair and drove my head into one of the shelves. I moved backwards and hurled him into the corner. Scrambling through the shelves, he stumbled upon a needle and looked at me with a grin.

Uh-oh.

Jumping on me, he forced me to the floor and starting driving the needle towards my arm. I quickly held onto his wrist and pushed it away. He pushed it towards me with just as much force and a driven expression on his face. The needle going back and forth, I managed to skim the label. It was only a tranquilizer. Harmless, really, but with the two of us locked up and Mark having access to plenty of items that _could_ harm me, I knew I had to take action. If I didn't, who knows what Mark would have done to me. So I pushed myself up, causing Mark to fall back and as he came at me again, I roughly shoved his hand into his arm. The needle sank into his skin and I watched the liquid inside of it deplete. His punches slowly winded down to mere slaps until his body was an unconscious pile on the floor.

Well… that was a start to serving justice. Now I just had to find a way out of here.


	20. Chapter 20

**SCENE TWENTY**

_Tom Hanson_

"You have ten seconds to get in the car," Sid hissed. "One… two…"

It was freezing. Sid's teeth were chattering and my fingertips were so frozen they felt like they were going to turn blue. I knew he didn't want to be out here and I certainly knew _I_ didn't want to be out here. Poor Sid was brainwashed. He was an accomplice of Mark's now and there was no way for him to off Scot free. He knew it, I could tell by the look in his eyes. When he decided to work alongside Mark, he agreed to the consequences that would follow, if he happened to think of the consequences at that time.

"Sid, you don't want to do this." I said gently.

"Three…" Sid continued. "Four…"

"You're not like Mark. You're a good guy. C'mon, drop the-"

"FIVE!" Sid exclaimed, pressing the gun more forcefully against my skin. "Six…"

"You said they treated people like animals," I slowly started to reach for the gun in my pocket. "So why are you working for him?"

"Seven… eight…"

I couldn't afford to talk to him any further. There were only two numbers left and those two numbers, those two seconds, would cost me my life if I didn't move. So I left the gun in my pocket and slowly moved my hand to touch Sid's arm. He jerked the moment we touched, but I didn't let go. I couldn't now. As much as I wanted to help him out of this, I just couldn't. It was too late to turn back.

"Let go." He ordered, shaking my arm roughly. "Let go! I'm warning you – NINE!"

Without another moment of hesitation, I shoved him to the ground. He held onto me and I held onto him. The gun was between us, pressed into my stomach. Sid's other hand was firmly holding onto the handle while mine was fighting to push it away. I pushed the gun away, Sid pushed it back, I pushed it away and Sid pushed it back. I had him pinned to the ground and all I needed to do now was get the gun away from him.

"TEN!" Sid's fingers wrapped around the trigger and I harshly moved the gun away from my abdomen. I pushed both of my hands against the ground to push myself up and in that second I heard it. A gunshot. It pierced the night sky with its loud bang. Everything – the animals, the wind… everything hushed. I felt my heart drop. My eyes were shut. I was afraid to look. I felt no pain. I reached down and felt my stomach. It was dry. That could only mean one thing…

I hesitantly opened my eyes. Sid's eyes were open but still, his chest was motionless and covered in blood.

"Oh god." I whimpered. "Oh god… no. No, no, Sid. Sid!" I tapped his cheek. "Come on, Sid, hang in there. Please! Just hang in there."

But he wasn't breathing. He was gone. Tears came to my eyes instantly. "No," I wept. "No, it wasn't supposed to happen to you. Not like this. If it weren't for Mark, you'd-" Mark.

_Mark_. This was his fault. He was at fault for everything. Every wound, every death and every last consequence anyone else ever paid to all of this. Yet he had gotten away with it this far. I was going to run into the building to call for help until suddenly I heard Fuller's voice.

"Hanson!" He called, his footsteps getting louder and closer. "Hanson, we saw everything – are you alright?" He knelt down in front of me and I only looked down to Sid. Fuller placed his hand on my shoulder. "This isn't your fault."

"I know it isn't," I remarked. "It's Mark's." With that said, I rushed to my feet and charged towards the door. Fuller pulled me back and looked into my eyes.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked me.

"Mark needs to pay for all this," I whimpered. "He needs to pay for all of it!"

Fuller gave me that look. That 'I need to be a cop but I'm really worried for you right now' look. He placed his hands on my shoulders and shook his head.

"He'll pay but you have to let everything fall into place according to the law. Now where is he?"

"I don't know… but Doug's inside looking for him."

"Alright, you stay here you got it?" The worried expression on his face suddenly became serious. "I mean it, you stay right here. Don't move."

I nodded and knelt by Sid's body.


	21. Chapter 21

**SCENE TWENTY-ONE**

_Doug Penhall_

"COME ON, PLEASE." I shouted, pounding my fists against the door. "SOMEBODY'S GOTTA BE AWAKE." No one was answering the door. I figured Mark already took care of the security guards by killing them off or tranquilizing them. I wasn't sure how long Mark would be tranquilized and I wasn't bound to stay in here long enough to find out. "PLEASE SOMEBODY. I NEED-"

The handle turned and the door cracked open. I pushed it a little more only to see Fuller standing there with raised eyebrows.

"Penhall, what on earth are you doing in here?" He asked. I was about to explain the situation and all of the amusing details along the way (I.E. getting myself locked in with a fugitive). However even before I could open my mouth Fuller looked behind me to see Mark on the floor. "Good work, Penhall."

"There's always something going on up here, sir." I said while tapping the side of my head. "No rest for Penhall."

"You forgot the key, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Get outside and stay with Hanson. We're waiting on a crew to show up and take care of the situation outside."

Situation? What situation? Oh no, Hanson! I rushed out of the closet, darted down the hallway and ran outside. Hanson was fine. He was sitting on the ground staring down at… a body. _Sid's body_. He heard me coming and turned to me with tears in his eyes.

"He pulled a gun on me," Hanson said, his voice quivering. "And he kept pushing and…"

"Hey, Ioki just pulled up." I reached out to help him up. "Let's go sit in the car and get out of the cold, okay?" Hanson held onto my hands and pulled himself up.

"Mark… where is he?" he asked.

"Um… we got locked in a closet and we wrestled around and uh, he's sleepin' it off."

"You have no idea how wrong that sounds." Tom said, even adding a soft laugh.

"Hey, I will have you know I am a very attractive guy." I adjusted my collar and ran my hand through my hair. "And if the ladies dig me, then so would the guys."

"Doug I have to be honest," Tom reached over and messed with my hair. "I've known you for a while and I have not once gotten the urge to wrestle with you in a closet and 'sleep it off'."

"Just give it time, with some people it takes longer."

"I somehow doubt that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I playfully demanded.

"Well Fuller's known you longer than I have and I haven't seen him begging for attention."

"He's just playin' hard-to-get."

"Don't flatter yourself, Penhall." Fuller said, his deep voice ringing between ours. He left the building and had been standing right behind me.

"Sir, I didn't realize you were standing there." I looked at Hanson who was smiling so widely he looked like he was going to burst. "So are you sayin' there's nothing between us?"

"Not a chance." Fuller chuckled. He pat my shoulder as he passed by and went towards his car.

"So it's done?" Hanson asked. "Mark's in cuffs?"

"Yeah, man, he's in cuffs." I looked over at him. I could tell he wanted his last words to Mark, and probably wouldn't be able to get them in until (and if) a trial took place. "Don't worry man, I socked 'em real good in the jaw for you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Hanson looked at me with a smile and gestured towards Ioki's car sitting several feet away.

"Let's go," he said. "I could really go for a burger."

Burgers it was.


	22. Chapter 22

**SCENE TWENTY-TWO**

_Tom Hanson_

Mark was found guilty of all twelve casualties. We're waiting to hear what he was sentenced, but Fuller said Mark was looking at life in prison or the death penalty. It was over now. Mark was behind bars, without a means of escaping, and Doug and I took a brief break from the force. We took the vacation that Fuller tried giving us beforehand. Instead of going to the countryside, where we were placed originally, we headed to Orlando, Florida. We wanted the sun, the ladies and Disneyworld – hey, we were only human.

After our few weeks of vacation, we went back to work at the chapel. It was weird walking into that building. Doug and I had been through so much, it was even on the news (without any video or pictures), and had received so much attention. All we wanted was for things to go back to normal, but by the looks of it, that wasn't happening any time soon.

When we walked into Jump Street's quarters, everyone hushed and stared. People asked if we were okay, said it was good to have us back, or they said nothing at all and looked at us with wide and curious eyes. Doug nudged my elbow and nodded towards the people.

"This is kinda weird." he remarked.

"I know." I replied, diverting my attention to the floor.

"It'll pass, right?"

"I hope so."

"Hey, Hanson!" exclaimed a familiar voice. I looked up and saw Judy rushing toward me. She took me in a hug and kissed my cheek. "Penhall, how's it going?" Ioki right behind her, she moved to hug Penhall as Ioki moved in to hug me.

"It's goin'." I answered, a nervous smile on my face.

"Things haven't been the same without you guys," Ioki said as he pat Doug on the back.

"Yeah, things have been real quiet." Judy chimed in. Then with a laugh she added, "And there's been plenty of candy around!"

"'Ey, that reminds me!" Doug rushed over to my desk and ruffled through my candy drawer.

"Penhall!" I moaned, rushing behind him. "Get your own for cryin' out loud – not even a minute when we get back and…"

"Mhm." Doug poked his head up and turned to me, a Snickers bar nearly half-eaten.

"…Doug you're like a…" I tilted my head as I attempted to think of the right description.

"Garbage disposal?" Ioki laughed.

"Yeah, that's it!"

"Hey now, let's be reasonable." Doug pat his stomach. "I'm a growing boy. I need my nutrients."

"Yeah, but do you have to steal mine?" I joked with a laugh.

"Penhall! Hanson!" Fuller called as he poked his head out of his doorway. "Come on in."

"Do you think he's gonna grill us for the entire not-staying-out-of-the-Mark-and-Sid-thing like we were told?" Doug asked.

"Probably."

"What do you think he's gonna do?"

"Probably throw out our candy. He has a stash of his own, you know."

"Does he really?" Doug inquired, his eyes suddenly lighting up.

"Mhm." I started for Fuller's office. "And he's got Kit Kats in his."

"Nice!"

We walked into Fuller's office and shut the door behind us. Fuller watched as we sat down, wearing a stern expression.

"Welcome back, guys." he said, offering a quick smile. Then it was back to the strict look on his face. "You did good work. It's nice to see a team so driven to bring justice to this country."

"Thank you, sir," Doug started only to be cut off by Fuller's deep voice.

"But," Fuller said. Oh, that 'but' was going to be harsh. "You were out of line by not following orders."

"Sorry, sir…" I sadly stated.

"Let me finish, guys." The stern expression on his face was gradually replaced by a kind smile. "But you booked Mark and you took care of things as best as you could. So we're going to overlook the fact you didn't stay out of the way."

"So we're off the hook?" Leave it to Doug to ask the obvious.

"Not exactly," Fuller reached below his desk to retrieve a rather large stack of papers. He sat them on the desk and leaned back in his chair. "That's all the paper work that needs to be done for Mark's case. Judy volunteered to take care of it, but I insisted that you boys would be more than happy to do it."

Ah, so that was it. Paper work. Lots and lots of paper work. I would rather serve a three-day suspension or something similar, but this? I could deal with paper work.

"Oh, of course, sir." Doug said enthusiastically. Wait, Doug was actually _happy_ to do paper work? Something was up… "But you know, sir this is going to take a lot of energy." Oh geez, I knew where he was going with this.

"Yes it is," asked Fuller, slightly confused. "Which makes you two best for the job."

"Yes, and to get that energy we need a quick pick-me-up. So I was thinking if it wouldn't be too much trouble…"

"Doug?" Fuller asked.

"Yes sir?"

"You're not getting into my candy."

"Yes sir."

"Come on, Doug," I got up and placed my hand on his shoulder. "Let's start this paper work. I think I have a few candy bars left."

"See, this is why I love you, Tommy." Doug slapped my back and followed me out to our desks. "Such a giving person!"

"Yeah, yeah." Yeah _so_ giving. "I really need to buy a lock for that drawer."

"…'Ey, Tom?" Doug asked in a sudden serious tone.

"Yeah, Doug?"

"I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm glad _you're_ okay, Doug."

"Yeah. 'Cause it was real… _wet_." Doug teased, recalling our discussion from before. I rolled my eyes and gave him a light shove.

"Here I was thinking you were being all sentimental!" I laughed.

"I was! Very sentimental! I just wanted to say it's nice to see that you're dry."

"Hey, at least I don't wrestle around with convicts and let them sleep it off."

"You're just jealous 'cause you don't have the 'it' factor." Doug joked.

"Yeah, you're right. If you have 'it' then I don't want it." I pushed the stack of papers towards him. "You go ahead and start, I'm going on my lunch break."

"Hanson!" Doug called. "It's only 9 in the morning!"

"Then I'm goin' for a coffee break."

"You take one more step and I'll…" Doug warned. "Well then you can just forget about bowling tonight."

"You don't _bowl_, Dougie."

"Yeah well I was gonna."

"No you weren't."

"Yeah I was!"

"Were you really?"

"…Maybe." Doug shrugged.

"Nah you weren't!" I slumped back into the chair. "You wanna?"

"If you stay here and don't bail on me. This is some major paper work, Hanson, you leave me now, by the time you come back I'll be buried in it."

"Alright, but only for the sake of bowling." I took one of the papers from the top and grabbed a pen from the drawer. "Need a pen?"

"Nah, I'm gonna go out for a second." Doug said as he got up.

"Where are you going?"

Doug looked at me, a wide smile dancing at his lips.

"I'm going on a coffee break."

I just laughed. He might have bailed on me, but Doug meant well. He could make me laugh and I could make him laugh. We always had a blast together and were dedicated to each other when it came to being partners in the force. I couldn't imagine reliving the last few weeks with anyone else. We looked fear in the face and laughed. Well… not so much laughed as cried like babies, but we cried together. We looked out for each other. We survived this together. Despite the fact he was a sugar fiend, Doug was a great friend. He saved my life. I owe him everything for that… just not my candy.

_**FIN**_

_(Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who read my story! Also, special thanks to all of those who reviewed! Your words of praise and encouragement were wonderful. Another story is in the works, so stay tuned!)_


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